


poetry in motion: specifically, the fall

by cruellae (tinkabelladk)



Series: 12 little sessions (with bonus track) [1]
Category: Cowboy Bebop (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22262122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkabelladk/pseuds/cruellae
Summary: Spike would never love him; could never love him. Indifference is a heartbreaker, but hate keeps a man warm.
Relationships: Spike Spiegel/Vicious
Series: 12 little sessions (with bonus track) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623682
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	poetry in motion: specifically, the fall

The stained glass window is luminous with the light of the setting sun flaring bright through the tinted panes. It shatters spectacularly when Spike’s body hits it, brightly colored shards flaring out behind him as he begins to fall.

Vicious watches, waiting for the moment when he hits the ground. 

_He’s five years old, and his name isn’t Vicious, not yet. His mother puts her hand on his back and pushes him forward as his father says something to the tall slender man with the red dragon tattooed on his neck. They both bow deeply. They are grateful because their debt is forgiven. Because they have been allowed to pay it not with money they don’t have, but with a child they can’t afford to feed._

Vicious hears the telltale thump and roll of a grenade hitting the floor nearby--Spike’s parting gift. He doesn’t even glance at it. It doesn’t matter. Spike is going to die when he hits the ground, and if he is dead than Vicious may as well be too. 

_Everyone is afraid of Vicious, but they all love Spike Spiegel. The kids who keep an eye on the happenings at the street level flock around him. The women flirt, and mean it, and the men clasp his shoulder with sincere respect. Vicious, who has earned his name, doesn’t understand it at first. And then he does._

Spike’s eyes are heavy lidded as he falls, like he’s slipping into sleep. His gaze is serene, resigned and without anger as he looks up into the sky and Vicious wonders if he’s thinking about Julia. 

_Is he leaving? Tell me, Julia. Or you know what I’ll do to you, what I could do to you both._

Vicious steps closer to the window, shards of glass crunching underfoot. He can’t see Spike’s eyes clearly from here, but he knows they are different colors, knows their hue in the smoky neon light of a seedy bar and the bright glare of a Martian afternoon. 

_The father who left his son in the care of the Red Dragon never does stop gambling. Eventually, the debts grow large enough to put another target on his back. The assignment falls to Vicious, who never hesitates. Afterwards, he sits by Spike in a dark bar and drinks cheap vodka until the sharp angles of the world soften._

Julia must have seen a similar kind of peace in Spike’s eyes, because leaving the Red Dragon syndicate is more dangerous than falling out of a cathedral window. But she was a pragmatist who knew better than to take that leap with him. 

_Ask me, Vicious thinks, sliding onto the barstool beside Spike’s for the last time. Ask me to come with you and I will._

Spike would never love him; could never love him. Indifference is a heartbreaker, but hate keeps a man warm. 

_Spike gets to his feet with a liar’s smile. I’ll see you later, Vicious. Hey, do you know where I can buy some roses around here?_

The pin clicks. The grenade flares bright and hot, a consuming cloud of flame. But Vicious is already gone.


End file.
